Monday, November 26, 2007

Paris capital of love: Outdoor cruising and (sex) clubs

Older gay men always talk about the “good old days.” Same in Paris. Conversing with these men, I got the impression that Paris city was a veritable gigantic cruising area full of beautiful buildings and parks. They talked about different corners of Paris where one, having made eye contact with another, could consume their (momentary) love right there and then. I imagine Paris then as full of happy smiley gays prancing about without a care in the world, waving and giggling at handsome policemen who smiled in return and saluted the flamboyant mass.
Bizarrely, I also start thinking about the good old days in Paris and having only been here for not even 10 years, my good old days are not that old. So things must have changed pretty fast then. Here, I attempt to list changes that I thought are significant ….
What it used to be
Outdoors, for a number of years already, the trend seems to be to light up sombre corners of Paris like a stage, and cut down any bush above half a meter tall. This means that outdoor sex is becoming nigh impossible. And this I have observed throughout Paris. The canal Saint Martin (Métro Jaurés) used to be one of these dark places where men come to meet other men, allowing them to imagine the other to be whoever they wanted him to be. This is not possible anymore with bright lights flooding every furthest corners and nooks and crannies. This place used to be teeming with men from all corners of Paris (and whose origins are from all corners of the world). The square Narvik also used to be one of the cruisy spots, but now they have cut down all the bushes leaving no possibilities for anyone to find an intimate spot out of the public view. Gone are the brushes (or bushes depending where you come from) that could tell many stories about quick love or sex that nonetheless I am sure had brought happiness to some.
Another by the river spot known to many and is still somewhat ‘doable’ is the quay along Jardin de Tuileries near Concorde. Known as Tata beach, you may feast on sights of delicious masculine bodies during the summer months here. There used to be an underground pedestrian tunnel here that at sundown turned into a veritable meat market. A gay artist friend of mine introduced this place to me. So, there I was in his beautiful apartment full of classic paintings, eating dinner in the most civilized way one can imagine (he sat on one side of a 5 m long table and I opposite him), and half hour after coffee, we were in the tunnel brushing against men leaning against the walls breathing the stale air heavy with the odor of sex (and the bourgeois queen that earlier sipped his coffee daintily turned out to be a very hungry animal indeed. Miauuuuu).
Now I walk around Paris with a sense of nostalgia of these places of nature where a bit of love might have been expressed even if only for a few minutes: Along the river Seine from Gare d’Austerlitz to Place de la Concorde, the park in the extremity of Ile St. Louis, Canal St Martin and Place de Stalingrad, the little park on the Canal going from Jaures to Republique, the curvy bridges that dotted the canal Quai Jemmapes, and many many more.
And sex clubs
It’s not surprising thus that sex clubs do great business these last years. Nonetheless, many of these places have also disappeared. In my neighbourhood le Marais and just one street from my apartment there is now a supermarket. Well, this supermarket used to be a gay sauna. Granted I never actually went there to use the sauna but only to visit the shop where one could buy edible undies, condoms, and sex toys, it is still a bit disconcerting that I now go there to buy bananas and wine. I thought there was something very weird when yet another supermarket appeared and replaced a cinema frequented by gays. The cinema used to show porn, with a small non alcoholic bar in the lobby. Aside from the rows of seats that you usually find in cinemas, to the side there were cubicles some of which could be sort of private as they had a door. Visiting the supermarket, I fondly remember the nameless strangers (that is, they did not even bother to give me a fake name) that I had met in what is now the frozen food area. Is this a cruel joke?
Back to existing clubs: the Depot has flourished and, I must admit, rather fun. They used to have a tea dance with gogo boys performing on a small stage. And on the basement, the labirynth still holds possible mysteries for unexpected encounters. Other sex clubs abound though they tend to be too ‘thematic’ for my taste. Often they have nude nights, leather night, shorts night, underwear night, fist night…oh well, me, I just like the good old fashioned roll in the hay that does not necessitate costumes nor a bucketful of lubricant.
Aside from the usual Marais area, there are clubs near Anvers or Pigalle. I like these places as they tend to be frequented not by stereotypical Parisian gays, but more like your neighbourhood kind of guys (remember the heterosexual neighbor you fantasized about? Or your sister's boyfriend?)! At MZ near Anvers, it seems that the word timid does not exist. You walk down that curvy stairway and you will be faced with men bearing it all as the day they were born (except for the obvious sign of their being excited). Nonetheless, people are friendly if a tad drunk, but good ambiance is sure to be had.

Hints for gay visitors: Check out the small format free gay weekly magazines and guides that you can find in gay bars to explore gay life in Paris (listing bars, sex clubs etc. or, of course, web sites). The bookstore Les mots à la bouche may be a wise first stop in Paris...this bookstore located in the 4th arrondissement at the corner of Rue Vieille du Temple and Rue St. Croix de la Bretonnerie, Metro Hôtel de Ville (Guides, english and french books, and free magazines by the entrance near the cashier). The bar Central (the oldest gay bar in Paris is just next door).

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Paris: Strike, Irritated people and apartment search

Paris strike and irritated people
Today, the 16th of November, is the third consecutive day of transportation strike that is plaguing Paris. The first day, the strike was the worst but I think many Parisians were ready and either cancelled appointments, took RTT (since now we work 35 hour week, we have extra days to take in the month) or made alternative transport arrangements. But the second day of strike, as it is renewable strike that was indeed renewed since the discussion between the unions and government did not advance, nerves are starting to be frayed and many express their ‘ras le bol’ (fed up, have it up to here etc.). Today, the third day, was the worst that I have experienced on Paris streets. Traffic jams everywhere, sidewalk full of people (as many people simply decide to walk to work), bikes, rollers, scooters etc etc. Riding on the bikelanes we had to avoid people on foot, scooters who decide to join us and even a car with its tires hugging the raised edge of the bikelane on one side and the sidewalk on the other. Intersections were completely blocked with cars facing every which way, pedestrians weaving their way among cars and cyclists doing the same. People were honking like crazy and added to that the sound of whistles from traffic police trying to manage the traffic and sirens from firetrucks and polica cars. Verbal fights ensued when a cyclist bumped another, when a pedestrian walked and blocked cyclists on bikelanes, when cars prevented people to cross streets etc. A young woman was shouting pédé (from pederast which is a derogatory name for gays) to a male cyclist who bumped her (I wanted to shout bitch at her for using this word, why not called him un connard or a stupid fuck or a bastard ?). Don’t even talk about metro. On the news, we could see that people were prevented from going to the platforms they were that full. Trains ranged from not running at all, to one every hour, to the best line (line 1) that runs every 10 to 15 minutes. People are on edge and this is expected to last through the weekend. We will wait what Monday brings.
The french are in general understanding and accept without question the right to strike. This time, transport workers wish to keep the special conditions they have for retirement (accorded to works that involve physical effort and unusual working conditions such as long hours, night time and weekends workdays) that the government is attempting to take away. But on the third day, patience is starting to run thin.
Add to the general situation, the students movement that in some universities included blocking off the university so courses could not take place.
I think we are at an explosive time here at the moment. Wait and see.

Apartment search
In the mean time, I have been doing a lot of visits of apartments to rent which is no mean feat when there is no reliable means of transport due to the strike. These visits range from group to, if I am lucky, individual visits. The group visits are interesting as people deal with potential competitors for the apartment differently. They can be friendly as one guy that I met on a visit with whom I ended up having coffee. Though in the end, I did understand his strategy: telling me a sad story that would make me cry a river so I won’t apply for the same apartment! And that worked too, because he was so cute and adorable. There are those who right away make you think if look could kill…and these are those who would make themselves first in line, dominate the conversation with the agent showing the apartment and attempt to weasel their way to the agent’s heart (if indeed he or she has one). Agents are something else, too. One behaved as if she was the owner of the apartment (though indeed she has the power to decide whose application gets through to the owner) and treated you like shits in need who made her lose her precious time. I am not one to talk about racism, but boy, this time I cannot help but think that if you speak with an accent and your skin is not exactly snow white, don't expect a royal treatement. I think that as soon as they see me come in, they form the image that I am an immigrant with a small salary that will probably put the whole village in a small studio. Of course, they would ask for a garant (guarantor) who is in principle a person who would pay for you if you don’t pay your rent. The problem is that they may ask that the garant earns 4X the rent (whereas the renter has to earn 3X the rent). My specific problem: most of my friends who could be garant actually earn less than me (in fact almost all earn less than me). So here is a funny situation, I who earn more than everyone else needs these others to guarantee the agent that my rents would be paid. Sometimes, these people just want to follow the rule or the accepted practice (that there is a garant) and forgetting the logic of the situation and the individual cases where this might not make sense…

Paris strike continues (today 20 nov)
I am beginning to have had it up to here with the transport strike. I have pedalled to the north of paris on a bicycle which was no easy task for anybody because it goes uphill in a very steep incline; I have fought people in metro where we were squashed in like sardines with aggressive and complaining people, have waited for buses, trams and metro forever and ever, and have spent way too much time in transport jumping from a bus stuck in the horrendous traffic jams (everyone who has a car of course decides to take their car) to walk a long time to find a metro line that runs. I have spent the night nourishing my tired legs. A few days of strike I can take, but this is getting ridiculous. How long will this last ?
The president just said that for the retirement plan, given the actives, reform has to take place...hey, I have an idea, what about immigration?